Rush Hour
by CrumbsUK
Summary: Las Vegas is rocked by a car bomb which kills two people and injures several others. Tensions rise as the team is placed under pressure by the mayor and the threat of further destruction from the renegade bomber. Chronicles of Las Vegas - 1x03
1. Part 1 of 4

Disclaimer: I do not own CSI or its affiliated characters. Characters not in the series are my own.

A/N: This is the third story in my series, _Chronicles of Las Vegas_. It's not necessary to read the first two stories, in order to understand this one but if you want to go through from the beginning, A _Midsummer Nightmare_ would be your starting point. :)

* * *

><p>A red Dodge Viper careers along West Flamingo Road heading towards the city centre. The occupants have opened the window and are enjoying the leisurely cruise in the brilliant Nevada sunshine, rap music is blasting loudly from the speakers as the driver shows off the speed of the automobile. Although they are not driving recklessly, they are still driving well above the speed limit, inconsiderate of the volume of traffic lining the boulevards of Las Vegas.<p>

The passenger is smoking a cigar out the window, taking advantage of their successful hauling taken from the casino the previous night. A car emerging from the freeway toots at them as they change lanes erratically to avoid the merging vehicle. The passenger in turn proceeds to curse the driver of the other vehicle, both verbally and through various gestures. As they approach the intersection with the Strip, the lights begin to change.

"Whoa dude, slow down!" the passenger screams to the driver. The driver, inexperienced with the car applies pressure to the breaks but it is not enough power to stop the formidable sports car, which slams into the back of the SUV patiently waiting at the lights, sending both cars into the path of the oncoming traffic from the strip. The usually vibrant atmosphere is broken up by the sounds of screeching tyres, metal hitting metal, blasts of car horns and screaming passengers and people passing by as a five car pile-up took place, the Viper flipping over onto its back and landing some thirty yards away from the main crash site.

The sounds of sirens fill the air as the emergency services rapidly head straight for the action. Two, no three ambulances pull up and the injured are immediately tended to. The police immediately get into action, cordoning off the intersection and setting up diversion routes around the area. Onlookers both watch with horror and capture the scene themselves, filming the both the crash and subsequent recovery on their cell phones, perhaps in a hope to earn some cash out of it.

It was clear that closing down one of Las Vegas' busiest intersections was going to have a negative effect on traffic elsewhere along the strip and Flamingo. Cars heading northbound on the strip were stuck in bumper to bumper traffic, whilst those south of Harmon Avenue could bypass the crash site, however, for some a hundred or so cars, they were forced to sit out and wait for the emergency services could clear the scene or until the police allowed them to make a U-turn and head southwards.

A woman in her silver Ford Focus was specifically frustrated as she brought out her phone to explain the situation to her manager, "No, no there's nothing I can do, I am literally stuck in a sea of traffic... no, I told you I'm gonna be at least an hour, maybe two... no I've been here forty minutes and we haven't moved at all, hold on a sec..." she wound down her window and shouted to the occupants of the car to the left, "can you turn your fucking music down I can't hear a thing!" the people in the car next to her looked at her shocked but obliged to her request, she turned back to her phone, "Sorry about that... no... well if you need me in so badly you can get your fat ass down here and pick me up." She hung up the phone and growled in frustration at the fact that she was stuck in this jam.

She looked at her watch, twenty-five past seven, meaning she would already be in her office and earning money right now. Annoyed by the echoes of horns that blasted around her, she beeped her own horn, shouting to the people around her, "Oh okay, let's go beeping our horns in hopes that will get us out of here. Beep, beep, beep, oh would ya look at that, I ain't fucking moved an inch but no I'ma keep on..."

The sounds of horns were completely overruled by a far larger noise. People nearby felt the air pushing them backwards as a tremendous fireball erupted from the silver Ford Focus, emitting smoke metres in the air. Anyone in the surrounding vicinity was immediately thrown off their feet; shop windows smashed and nearby cars were thrown away effortlessly. Bodies lay on the sidewalk and on the road, clinging on to life as those who weren't seriously injured screamed for help.

The explosion was felt along the street and the clean-up crew at the Flamingo intersection crash immediately knew something was wrong. Spectators to this crash immediately turned their cell phones to the direction of the billowing smoke a couple of blocks down the strip. People flocked to it like seagulls, either to help or to see it for themselves. Thankfully, many of the ambulances from the previous crash hadn't yet departed and were available to provide quick emergency assistance to those injured in the blast.

A sergeant previously attending the crash site a couple of blocks up was the first on the scene. The wreckage of the Ford Focus was still aflame and the ground was littered with debris and to his disgust, body parts. A familiar smell wafted through his nose.

"What first?" An officer walked up to the sergeant asked.

The sergeant simply replied, "Bring me a fire truck, a shit load of ambulances and get CSI on the phone."

* * *

><p>Sara, Nick and Greg walked into the crime lab, smiles implanted on their faces having just solved a quick and easy B&amp;E.<p>

"That was just too easy," Greg chuckled as he opened his locker and dumped his kit inside it.

"I can't believe he actually let himself get handed him _with_ the stolen items on his possession," Sara laughed. "It's people like him which make me seriously doubt Darwin."

"It certainly provided a whole new definition of slam dunk," Nick commented to the three of them, "hey, doesn't that new DNA chick start today."

"A hundred bucks says I can get her in the sack before you do," Greg grinned sheepishly, to which Sara rolled her eyes and muttered something along the lines of 'men' to herself.

"You might as well just give me that hundred now," Nick chuckled, "going by your past record."

"Oh really?" Greg laughed, "when was the last time you got laid?"

"Oh yeah, when was the _first_ time you got..."

"I'm outta here," Sara said flatly, getting up and leaving the two men to continue battling their egos against each other.

"Early bird catches the worm Greg," Nick said to him heading for the DNA lab. Greg childishly followed him out and tried to outrun his colleague to the DNA lab. The two of them abruptly came to a halt as the woman turned around to see what the commotion was.

"Ah, Stokes, Sanders," a voice came from behind them. It was Ecklie, "I see you haven't met our new DNA technician, gentlemen, this is Selma Montague. She's transferred over from San Diego to work in our department. Selma, this is CSI Nick Stokes and CSI Greg Sanders who will also be on the night shift with you."

Selma outstretched her hand to both of them before commenting, "corr, they don't make guys like yourselves back in San Diego!"

Nick and Greg laughed nervously as they shook her hand, muttering comments such as "nice to meet you, Selma." Selma was quite unlike the previous technicians in the DNA lab. She was a small woman with kind blue eyes and short, wispy, grey hair. She must have been in her mid-sixties or so, but it became quickly clear that the bets were off.

"Right, you two," Ecklie spoke up indicating to Nick and Greg, "I need you in Catherine's office, now."

The two of them said goodbye to Selma and as they followed Ecklie to their supervisor's office, Greg subtly whispered into Nick's ear, "she's all yours."

* * *

><p>Once the entire grave shift had all settled into Catherine's office, Ecklie pulled out a large file and began explaining to them why they had been summoned, "the bad news is that you're not going to be able to go home, yet," Sara rolled her eyes and tutted, "we got a call regarding a car crash and then an explosion occurring on the strip, we believe the two events are not related. Half of days are in LA chasing a serial killer leaving the other half with the car crash. I need you guys to process the explosion."<p>

"Do you reckon it was a bomb?" Catherine inquired.

"It's difficult to say but eyewitnesses claim that it was... massive," a look of concern began to take hold of the faces of the CSIs in the office at the office, "now I don't know the extent of the damage at the moment, but the mayor is pressuring me to get this done quickly..."

"But if it's a bomb we could be looking at millions of pieces lying around," Sara piped up angrily.

"Which is why I can count on you guys to do the job both quickly and effectively," Ecklie answered to which Sara held back a little, "now this is a very high profile case, everything gets absolute priority, the mayor has asked as much manpower as possible going into this investigation so... so..."

"So what, Ecklie?" Catherine smiled, having an inkling she knew where this was going.

"So," Ecklie said mournfully, "I will be placed under your leadership Catherine, and will be assisting with the investigation."

The entire team gave a mock cheer as Catherine, still grinning said, "well you better dust off your kit, Conrad, we're leaving in five."

* * *

><p>Even before arriving at the crime scene, Catherine could tell it was a big one, the closure of the Strip between Harman and Flamingo had meant traffic had built up rapidly in the surrounding areas. Catherine couldn't remember the last time she had had to use her sirens in order to get to the crime scene.<p>

She knew that the scene was going to take time to clear, time which the mayor and the city of Las Vegas couldn't afford to have one of its major attractions shut down for. Several thousand spectators had been ushered behind the crime tape, eager to get in with the action or get their videos on the news. She noticed that there were several cars clumped together north and south of what appeared to be the main explosion site. About half a dozen cars were lying in various positions, two of them on the wrong side of the road and one had even been thrown onto the pavement.

The coroners had already arrived at the scene, as she got out of her Denali she could see that both Al Robbins and David were wandering the scene and recording the position of blood and body parts. Within seconds, the entire team had assembled with their latex gloves and silver kits, ready to clean up the scene. Catherine spent a few moments surveying the scene once more before she delegated jobs to her team, "okay then," she called, "Greg, Ray, you two focus on this area of the scene," she indicated the area which appeared to be the main blast sight, "find out whether this was the source of the explosion and in particular that vehicle there," she pointed out the remains of a burnt Ford Focus which looked almost unrecognisable, "Nick, Sara, you two check out those vehicles which have been scattered around, we can't bring them all back to the garage so get as much as you can off them. Conrad and I will look around these areas," she indicated to the remainder of the scene "and we'll find out the owner and see if we can get any legitimate eyewitnesses."

The team replied with a "yes boss" and proceeded to process the scene as they had been assigned to. Before beginning her job, Catherine noticed homicide detective Jim Brass strolling to her, presumably to update her on the current situation.

"Okay, eyewitnesses were walking away from the crash site further up the street and say they were suddenly thrown off their feet by the explosion, and then they can't remember what happened after that," Brass rolled his eyes as he flipped through his notepad, "right, we have at least one DB, well, fragments of a DB, at least a dozen injured, four seriously, I got my units taking all kinds of cells, gadgets and gizmos off anyone who captured the explosion. I've also had that camera's surveillance sent back to the lab," he pointed to a CCTV camera mounted on the side of one of those stores, "judging by the size of the explosion, I'd say we got a bomb on our hands."

"Okay thanks Jim," Catherine replied, "do you have an ID on our DB?"

"No, we tried analysing car plates but they were destroyed in the explosion, but I've been told that identifying our vic is a priority."

"Bombs are usually generally personal, Jim, so I'm gonna need you to dig deep into the victim's personal life once we've identified them."

"No problem Catherine," he said and walked off to sort out an issue regarding some of the crowds who had swarmed over towards the crime scene. "Whoa, whoa, move the crime scene tape back another block."

Seeing that Brass had now left, Catherine could begin working. She started by documenting various shrapnel and fragments, possibly from the suspected bomb and began taking photos and bagging the larger parts she could pick up. The work was tiring and particularly exhausting having already conducted and eight hour shift and it wasn't helped by the fact that it was another hot and sticky morning. She hoped they could identify the source of the explosion quickly, she knew she wasn't going to find an awful lot in her own search area and she had a horrible feeling in the back of her mind that the bomber, if it was a bomber, would strike again.

* * *

><p>Greg and Ray had spent the past half an hour combing through what they had identified as the source of the explosion. It was pretty obvious given the crater which had appeared in the middle of the road and the fact that everything in close proximity to the burnt out car had been blown outwards. It made sense after all, there was heavy congestion on the road so the cars would have been compacted together and thus would have felt the brunt of the explosion.<p>

"It's a miracle that we only had one fatality," Ray commented to Greg, who was lifting away parts of the Ford Focus.

"Yeah, but we still gotta count on the others making it through, from the sounds of things this was a pretty sizeable explosion," Greg said, shifting another part of the car out of the way, "oh lovely, we got a finger here."

"Doc!" Ray called out, "we need you to take a look at this."

Al Robbins came hobbling over to where they were and bent down to further examine the finger. "Well it looks like this was left in pretty good condition," he commented, "apart from being detached from the body of course."

"Do you reckon we can get anything from it?" Ray asked.

"I'd say there's a good chance you can," Doc Robbins replied, "I can tell you that the victim was probably female, judging by the fake nails. I'd say she was also of African-American descent as well but other than that I can't give you anything else."

"Okay, I'll bag it and take it back to DNA later."

"Whoa, biohazard bags Ray!" Greg reminded him, just as Ray was about to bag it with the other evidence.

"You know, I think I'll take that back with me now," Doc Robbins offered, "I'm heading back now and it looks like there isn't a lot for me to do out here."

"Cheers Doc," Ray said, handing him the finger.

"I got an end cap!" Greg called out, picking up a large fragment, "this is pretty hefty, and I mean, way bigger than the ones I used."

Ray looked at Greg, perplexed, "What do you mean, bigger than the ones I used?"

"Oh, I used to make bombs," Greg chuckled, Ray looked at him with a look of horror, "little bombs," Greg held out up his finger and thumb, emphasising 'little'. "Well, I'd say we're definitely looking at a bomb of some sorts. Pipe bomb most likely."

"I think I got another cap here," Ray had picked up another large fragment, almost identical to the one which Greg had found only this one was slightly more deformed.

"Well one of those caps must have made contact with the explosive material; hopefully Hodges can find something from it. Explosive material or prints will give us a good idea what we're looking at."

The two of them began combing the scene once more; looking for more evidence to suggest that there was a bomb in this car. Within an hour and a half they had managed to find plenty of bomb fragments as well as several frayed wires, what looked to be the remnants of a digital clock and another device, shaped a little like a battery.

"Okay Mr bomb expert," Ray spoke to Greg, "what's this?" He held up the battery-shaped device for Greg to see.

Greg studied it for a moment before shrugging his shoulders, bagging the device and telling him, "I have no idea but that doesn't look like something which belongs in a car."

"Okay, I'm going to hazard a guess here," Ray spoke in his usual calm tone, "we're looking at a high explosive bomb, probably built into the hood of the car. I'm willing to bet a time bomb judging by the clock remains we've found."

"Which narrows our suspect list down to, anyone in Vegas."

* * *

><p>"I knew this thing would eventually be worth the two hundred or so dollars," Nick said as he wiped the surface of one of the wrecked cars with what looked like to be a small piece of sandpaper.<p>

"You paid two hundred dollars for that?" Sara asked in disbelief, "you know you could try getting it through the lab for about a quarter of that price."

"Sara, the lab can't even afford another level one, let alone paying for the entire days, swing and night shift for an advanced explosive kit, so I thought I might up my game."

"The reason we're not supplied with these because we get like, one explosion case a year? It's just not worth the hassle."

"Au contraire," Nick replied smugly as he got out a bottle of a liquid similar to the hydrogen peroxide they used to test for blood, "let's see, we had that funeral bombing last May, then that pesky McCann brat tried to bomb my house earlier this year, then there was the warehouse bomb and the one at the deaf colle..."

"Okay, okay, I get it; just show me how it works." Nick smiled whilst Sara folded her arms sceptically, not entirely convinced by Nick's new gadget.

"Just a couple of drops and..." he applied two drops onto the paper. Nothing happened.

"Err, Houston, we have a problem," Sara had a look of smug satisfaction planted on her face to which Nick lapped up; he was not finished with his new toy.

"You see Sara," he put the first tube of liquid back into his case and took out a new one, "that's just told me that our explosives weren't Class A explosives, you know, like TNT, Tetryl, TNB etc. Now when I apply this," he poured two drops of the second liquid onto the paper, this time the paper rapidly changed to a pink colour, "it tells me that the explosives used in this bombing were class B explosives."

Sara tried her best not to look impressed, "okay, so what explosives were used then."

Nick grimaced slightly before spewing, "Either, dynamite, nitoglycerin, RDX, PETN, Nitrocellulose or SEMTEX."

"Well," Sara stood up, and saying sarcastically, "that narrows things down, doesn't it."

* * *

><p>"What have you got Archie?"<p>

Catherine had decided that her search areas had not produced any significant results and that she would be better off going back to the lab. After all, she'd given most of the field work to Greg and Ray, who were analysing the source of the explosion. Upon arriving at the lab she immediately got a page from Archie who had identified the mystery victim.

"Hey, I got your explosion on the surveillance footage here," he fast-forwarded the footage to seven twenty-five and forty three seconds and played it for Catherine. It clearly showed the silver Ford Focus being the source of the explosion. The footage shocked Catherine, not because of the content but of the sheer size of the explosion.

"That's a lot bigger than I was expecting," she stuttered. "An explosion that big, it looked like the bomb was designed to take a lot of lives, and it's a miracle only one person was killed."

"I'm afraid we better make that two," Jim Brass walked in sadly, "Patrick McConnors, wrong place at the wrong time."

"So now we've got a double murderer on our hands. So you were saying you've identified our mystery vic?"

"Yeah, I couldn't pull plates off the surveillance but traffic cameras picked up our same Silver Ford Focus crossing Harmon forty-two minutes beforehand." He opened a file entitled '6/30/11' and advanced to six forty-three that morning. "Now this is just moments after that crash on Flamingo, there she goes," he pointed out the Ford Focus crossing the intersection. "I ran plates and identified our victim as Marie Freybould."

A picture of a middle-aged African American woman was put up on the screen enlisting her personal details such as her telephone contacts, home address and work address. "Coroners found a finger from an African American woman at the scene; I'd safely say it was her. I'll go and take Lo- I mean Detective Vartann for a little road trip to the victim's house."

"So I'm stuck with Conrad huh?" Brass chuckled, holding out his hands with a hint of annoyance, "I'll go and find out what her employer at, NevadaTelecom," he read off the screen. "I'll see what they have to say about her.

"Jim," Catherine spoke to Brass as they both left the AV lab to head for their destinations, "I don't know why but I have a bad feeling about this case."

"How come?"

"I don't know, I've just got a horrible feeling that our bomber isn't quite finished yet."

* * *

><p>AN: That is the end of Part 1 of the story, the second part will be up sometime tomorrow. Feel free to tell me what you thought of it and I hope you enjoyed the story and stay tuned for the rest of it! :)


	2. Part 2 of 4

Two figures arrived at the foot of a modest house situated just off the West Hacienda Avenue. Before going to knock on the door as they usually would, the two of them stopped by the car which they had pulled up in, engaged in conversation.

"So, Saturday night was great," Catherine spoke to her lover, the two of them had spent most of the journey discussing their night together, the first one they had had for a while. The dinner was decent, but was unmemorable in comparison to the 'after-party' back at Vartann's house.

"Yeah," he replied, "well, I have the day off tomorrow, and I know you've only got it pencilled in, so I was wondering if you wanted to do something." Truth be told, the two of them had hardly talked since they had woken up next to each other Sunday morning. Work had become demanding as usual and Catherine particularly had worked doubles due to Greg's absence over the weekend, she was relieved that she probably had a relaxing day to look forward to tomorrow.

"Yeah, that would be nice," she replied simply, "do you want to tell them, or shall I?"

"It's alright, I'll do it," the two of them walked up to the door, solemn expressions on both their faces. Whilst it was still difficult to inform someone their loved one was deceased, it was all part of the job and something that the people who worked in law enforcement got used to. It didn't stop them hating that part of the job though.

A man, around the same height as Vartann answered the door cautiously, in fact, the two of the looked very much alike aside from the clothes, skin colour and hair style, "Mr Freybould," Vartann cleared his throat, "I'm detective Lou Vartann, this is Catherine Willows from the crime lab, may we come in please?"

Mr Freybould's face changed from suspicion to sorrow, "I can't say I haven't been expecting you," he opened the door and let them in, ushering them into a small sitting room. The two of them sat down on the couch whilst Mr Freybould went to make them a cup of coffee, despite their insistence not to worry. The TV was on the news channel, images from the scene that Catherine had just combed through made their way on to the screen with eerie familiarity. She spotted Brass in one particular screenshot, ushering people away and refusing to answer the questions of the news reporters.

"I know you're both here to tell me my wife is dead," Mr Freybould had returned with two cups of coffee, his face showing both acceptance and despair. Shocked at his bluntness, Catherine just nodded her head to confirm the bad news. "I've been watching all morning, waiting for a phone call, a knock on the door, I recognised the silver Ford Focus as soon as it came on, I had a nasty feeling it w..."

It was only then that he began to break down into tears; he held his face in his hands, appearing to be embarrassed about displaying his grief in front of the two of them. "Mr Freybould," Catherine finally spoke up, "we're very sorry for your loss."

"Is there anyone who had anything against Marie?" Vartann asked, "Any problems at home? From previous experience, bombs have been a rather personal crime."

"Are you implying I might have something to do with this?" Freybould asked with a hint of irritation in his voice. "Because I knew she was dead before you two got here? Because it was a personal attack it was the husband's fault?"

"No," Catherine replied, "we're not accusing you of anything; we just need a bit of context."

"Well I love Marie, I love her so much, even when she seemed eternally pissed off with me, I still loved her. She might come across as a bit aggressive or ruthless sometimes, I mean she's the assistant director at NevadaTelecom, and you know how big that is. I'm willing to bet she made quite a few enemies climbing to the top of that ladder."

"Have you received any hate mails, any death threats at all?" Catherine asked, casting her mind back to the previous week involving a case to do with loansharks and blackmail.

"Not that I know of," Freybould replied sadly, "listen, Marie could sometimes come across as quite a bitch, but still nothing that people would want her dead for."

"Okay, thanks for your time, Mr Freybould. Do you mind if we have a look around?" She inquired.

"No, go ahead, anything to help you with your investigation."

"I have one more question," Vartann spoke, Freybould gave him a suspicious look, having taken a slight dislike to Vartann following his initial questions, "where does your wife park her car?"

"We have a garage, but there is no space to fit the Focus in. Oh and she had it serviced recently, there was something wrong with the emergency brake which needed replacing, she's been nagging me for lifts to work since it went in, it was so much easier when Larry used to take her in."

"Who's Larry?"

"He's the neighbour, used to carpool with Marie, she'd drive Tuesdays and Thursdays, he'd do the other three days, but then he left the company

Vartann thought hard for a moment, a newly serviced car explodes the morning after it's returned. He made a mental note to go and visit that garage at some point but there was also the possibility that the car may have been sabotaged overnight. The road outside was pretty quiet; anyone could sneak in and set up the bomb in relatively short time without being caught. He kept those questions to himself for later possibly, but for now he had been given a new lead to have a look at, "okay, can I have the contact details for the garage she took the Focus to?"

* * *

><p>Four CSIs sat in the break room, mulling the case over as they ate lunch. Nick and Sara had been hanging around the lab for a while, examining the burnt out Ford Focus which had been towed back to the lab and waiting for results from trace and DNA. Greg and Ray had only returned recently joined them, having spent most of the morning at the scene.<p>

"Damn, why do they have to make the spicy nachos and the nacho cheese flavours the same colour?" Ray complained, tossing his chips into the middle of the table.

"Hey, I'll swap 'em for this," Nick took the chips and passed Ray the other half of his pickle sandwich.

"Okay then," Sara said, bringing the topic of the case back to the table, "Nick and I found trace of Class B explosives on the side of the other cars caught in the blast radius."

"Did you manage to identify an explosive?" Greg said between mouthfuls.

"Nick's flashy explosive detection kit managed to narrow it down to six possible explosives."

"Oh do you never stop going on about it?" Nick whined.

"Well _I've_ managed to narrow that down to just one explosive," Hodges strolled in, with a satisfactory smirk emerging on his face, "I swabbed the end cap which Ray and Greg found at the scene. Your explosive compound contained, nitroglycerin which is the explosive component of..."

"Dynamite," the CSIs in the room spoke in unison.

"I hate it when you do that," he pouted, "and your other component is silica."

"And we didn't even need to pay two hundred bucks to find that out," Sara spoke to Nick smugly.

"Okay, okay, I get it, enough about the damn kit."

"You paid two hundred dollars for it?" Greg laughed.

"Before you go back to demeaning each other I got something else," Hodges pulled out the battery shaped fragment which Greg and Ray hadn't been able to identify, "I managed to determine that _this_ is a geophone, it's a device which converts vibrations or movements into voltage."

Suddenly, something clicked into Nick's head, "The ignition!" He called out, "victim switches the car on, if it's anything like mine the whole damn thing judders around when it starts. Geophone picks up the vibrations sending the spark to the device and boom!"

"Hold on, you're missing something out here," Ray pointed out, "if the ignition was the main spark then the car would have blown up on the driveway."

"We found what looked like to be the remains of a digital device," Greg raked his memory, "I reckon the geophone activated the timing device which then in turn set off the bomb."

"Nick and I examined the wreckage of the victim's car; we reckon the bomb was placed underneath the hood of the car," Sara explained, "closest to the engine, most vibrations meaning it was guaranteed to go off."

"Well I guess my work is done here," Hodges said to himself as the four CSIs ignored him, carrying on their discussion with the investigation. He was about to turn around and leave when Nick called him back.

"Hey Hodges, did you get any DNA off any of the fragments."

"I sent them to Selma; she'll page you if she gets anything off them."

"Okay, thanks Hodges." At last, some recognition, Hodges thought to himself as he skulked off back to Trace, he heard someone call out to him as he passed DNA.

"Hey Hodges, over here!" A frail voice called out to him, Hodges span around and entered the lab. Selma spun round on her chair and held up her middle finger at him, but it wasn't her middle finger but the one obtained from the crime scene. This gesture was accompanied by a raspberry directed at Hodges. 'Great,' Hodges thought to himself, 'they hired Sanders' nan.'

* * *

><p>Brass entered a large open plan office area packed with dozens of cubicles. Workers lined the cubicles, all of them engaged in conversation with complete strangers, someone they'd never meet, or even never hear from again. A tall man emerged from a room to the side, Brass noticed he was well-dressed sporting a well-kept beard and spectacles, if he didn't know better; he could have easily mistaken the man for the old grave shift supervisor.<p>

"Bradley Kiefers?" Brass spoke to him, "I'm Detective Jim Brass and this is Conrad Ecklie from the crime lab," Ecklie held out a hand in a half-hearted attempt to introduce himself, "we're investigating the murder of one of your employees, Marie Freybould."

Kiefers sighed; he'd been informed of a probable visit from the police department having watched Marie's death announced on the news. He also realised that he was likely to be questioned as he was the last person to contact her alive, "Marie was an outstanding worker in the company, she devoted a lot of her time towards advancing career and she was an excellent assistant director."

"Mr Kiefers, when was the last time you were in contact with Mrs Freybould?" Ecklie asked.

"She rang me this morning, just before it happened. She said she was gonna be late for work, stuck in traffic along the Strip. We had a major meeting planned for this morning regarding a merger with another network company based in Utah, I told her she couldn't miss it and she told me that I'd have to get my fat ass there and pick her up."

"Did anyone have anything against her in the company, anyone who might, want her out of the way?" Brass asked, writing down everything Kiefers said onto his notepad.

"Marie was a ruthless woman, you ask her to take part in a one hundred metres race, and she'll break the legs of her competitors before they even get to the start line. Nevertheless, she was an excellent worker and her death comes at a massive loss for the company. She didn't please everyone but I don't see how anyone would want her dead, does taking her parking spot count as a threat?"

"Do you mind if I have a look through her personal stuff?" Ecklie asked.

"Go ahead, but I don't know what you'll find here though, but anything to help catch the guy who did this." Kiefers phone began ringing, "sorry, I gotta go and get this."

"We'll get in contact if we find anything new," Brass commented to him. Kiefers retired back into his office to take the call as Brass noticed Ecklie rummaging through Marie Freybould's desk. A stocky man, of Oriental descent approached Brass. He, like Kiefers also looked to be dressed well for the job, Brass spoke to the man, "anything can I help you with?"

"If you want to know what Marie Freybould was really like, you shouldn't be speaking to the guy at the top of the food chain," he sneered at the homicide detective, there was something about the man which Brass found unpleasant, even sinister.

"Not a fan, I take it," Brass commented.

"Ding dong, the bitch is dead. You wonder why everyone round here's doing their job like normal, not at all affected by what's happened?"

"Maybe it's because they're emotionless, but you don't have to take my word, just personal experiences with salespeople."

"It's because everyone hated her guts, I mean, she got to where she was by blowing the boss and getting rid of the competition, there's a good starting point."

"What do you mean by that?"

"Basically, anyone who opposed her had their bags packed and out the door in a blink of an eye."

"Do you have any individual names for me?"

"I can get some."

"Hey Jim," Ecklie had walked back from quickly examining the desk of Marie Freybould, "I didn't find anything of suspicion around her desk and work area."

"Wow, you done that quickly," Brass replied.

"That's why I'm the Undersheriff."

"Nah," Brass chuckled patting him on the shoulder, "you're my bitch for today."

* * *

><p>"Yeah that's great, thanks Jim," Catherine hung up the phone and turned to face Nick who'd handed her the reports of their initial findings, "Brass says he's got a whole list of suspects, ex-employees of NevadaTelecom, all of which wanted a piece of Marie Freybould."<p>

"Yeah but that's no good if we don't have any evidence to convict them," Nick replied, "anyway we reckon the bomb was a pipe bomb and the explosives used were dynamite."

"Did you work out how it goes off?"

"We have a good idea, we identified one component of the bomb to be a geophone, a device which picks up ground vibrations and converts it into an electrical charge."

"So you suspect the ignition as being the trigger?"

"Greg and Ray found a digital clock device; we reckon the spark initiated the clock of some sort which detonated the bomb at a specific time."

"Hold on that doesn't make sense," Catherine rested her head onto her right hand, "if you're gonna have the bomb go off at a specific time, you'd wire it up to the clock on the dash, not use some fancy device to convert the ignition to turn on a clock."

"So that suggests that there was some sort of countdown, and the bomb was set to go off at say, half an hour after Marie Freybould turned her car on."

Catherine opened her mouth to speak when she noticed that Selma was stood beside the door, "I managed to lift some epiphilials off one of the end caps of the bomb."

"Did you get a match?" Catherine asked raising her eyebrow.

"Unfortunately, no match was found in CODIS, our guy isn't in the system. Mandy couldn't find any prints off the fragments either, seems like our bomber wore gloves. Sorry I couldn't be any more of a help."

"It's not your fault Selma, you're doing a great job," Catherine smiled.

"First day in Vegas and... boom! Way to start your new career with a bang." The eccentric DNA tech walked off, humming away to something which Catherine recognised as Rage Against the Machine.

Catherine turned back to discuss with her assistant supervisor when her cell phone began to ring, sighing she retrieved it from her jacket and answered it, "Willows."

"Cat, it's Lou," she heard on the other end of the line, "I checked out the garage, they remember the Ford Focus and their records show they did indeed replace the emergency brake system."

"Did they pimp her ride with some added fireworks?"

"They denied even touching the hood let alone placing the bomb in the car. Pretty dodgy garage though, I had a look at their employers, every one of them has some sort of record, drug possession, assault, domestic violence..."

"We got some epithelials, no hit in CODIS; I don't think these guys would have built it anyway. I can't say I'm too surprised though."

"Okay well I'm heading back now; Brass says he's got a chunky list of disgruntled employees for us to check out."

"Well give me a call if you find something new."

She hung up without waiting for him to reply. She turned back to Nick and they began talking about the bomb itself, "alright where were we? Okay, so now it seems we have a time bomb on our hands. I've been thinking, and they're not nice thoughts, I have a feeling that maybe Mar..."

"Incoming," Nick whispered to her and she looked up to see the Mayor flanked by Ecklie walking into her office.

"Mayor Grimmle, what a pleasant surprise," the irritation in her voice was not subtle.

"I want answers Catherine!" Logan Grimmle was a tall man, in his late forties. Just like those who preceded him; his main concern lay with his political campaign and his popularity. He put a hand through his slicked back hair and sighed, saying to Catherine, "I've got news hounds following me left, right and centre, and they're hungry for answers and I got nothing."

"We're doing our best to solve this, we're sticking to protocol and we're solving this just like..."

"But this isn't like every other case Catherine!" Grimmle snapped back at her, "People don't tune in to some drugged up teenagers going walkabout or some woman who died thinking she was a cat. Average Joes. Arson. Serial Killers. Missing Kids. Bombs." He said raising his hand up an imaginary ladder, "that's how the hierarchy of the media goes."

"Well you can tell the media that we know exactly what kind of bomb was used and that our team is doing their be..."

"That's not good enough!" Grimmle interjected again, "I need suspects, I need to know if he's going to strike again, I need to kno.."

"Sir," Catherine piped up getting infuriated, "my team are pulling sixteen hour shifts; we have every person possible trying to solve this as fast as possible!"

Nick too was beginning to get enraged, he opened his mouth to make a point but Catherine gave him a look telling him to keep his quiet, she glared at Ecklie begging him to do something but he looked just as nervous and angry as the both of them.

"When I was voted in as mayor, I was told that Catherine Willows' team was one of the best damn teams in the country," Grimmle began wandering around the office as he ranted, "I mean you do know that Vegas took top spot recently as best crime lab in the country?" Catherine nodded. "In the first year that I've been elected in as mayor, I have one member of your team shoot a kid," Nick clenched his fists in his seat, "I find out another member was sleeping around with a psychopathic stripper, you're lucky you got a conviction on that one and finally I've heard rumours you're letting your newest CSI Langston pretty much take over your job."

"That's not true," Catherine protested.

"Oh yeah, how come he's interviewing suspects alone? He's out doing solos alone? I even heard he was telling some of your CSIs what to do and he's only a Level Two!" Grimmle raised his voice, "last time I read _protocol_, you have to be at least a Level Three to do those things. Now the only reason your team is still together is because I've pulled some strings and let these things slide. I can very easily change my mind. I got you all out of trouble so the very least you could do is do the same for me."

"Errm, sir," Ecklie finally piped up, "can we talk somewhere else and let them get back..."

"As for you Conrad," Grimmle interjected, "this has all been happening right under your nose and yes, I think we really need to talk." He turned back to Catherine, "I'm holding a press conference at five pm and I want answers by then otherwise I'm handing this over to the Feds. You have two hours."

He gave the two of them a look, glared at Ecklie for a moment and stormed out the room, Ecklie bounding along behind like an obedient puppy. Catherine let out a growl of frustration and put her head into her hands. "I can't do this Nick," she began to sob.

"Whoa, don't listen to that jackass you're doing a great job," Nick leant over and put a hand on her back, "he only cares because it affects his reputation and it's a media frenzy."

"But he's right, I've let all those things happen right under my nose."

"But it's not your fault Cath, don't go blaming yourself." She sniffled and muttered thanks, wiping her eyes and composing herself. Her office phone began ringing, she quickly calmed herself down and made sure she wasn't showing signs of distress before answering it.

"Willows."

"There's another bomb," a sinister voice whispered on the other side. Catherine's eyes widened as her fears were confirmed.

"Who is this?" She asked.

"You have one hour." The line went dead, realisation hit Catherine and she quickly got up from her desk and ushered everyone into the layout room, in her mind, an imaginary clock began ticking...

_60:00 , 59:59 , 59:58 , 59:57 ..._

* * *

><p>AN: Ooooh... angst!

Hope you enjoyed Part 2 of the story, Part 3 should be up sometime tomorrow. Please feel free to review and give me your feedback! Thanks for reading! :)


	3. Part 3 of 4

_59:39 , 59:38 , 59:37 , 59:36 ..._

Nobody questioned Catherine as she ushered everyone into the layout room, CSIs, lab techs, even Judy the secretary was called in but from the look on Catherine's face whatever the problem was, it was urgent.

"We have a serial bomber on our hands," Catherine said.

"Oh god," Mandy cried out, "where's this one hit?"

"It hasn't, yet, we have one hour to find it and disarm it and I have an idea where it might be. Archie, what time did the bomb detonate this morning?"

"Seven twenty-five." Archie called out from behind Nick, rummaging through his notes.

"I've got a strong feeling that Marie Freybould was not the intended target in this attack."

Nick finally clicked onto what Catherine was talking about, "yes, because she was delayed on the way to work by the crash on Flamingo."

"That means she should have been in her office when the bomb went off," Sara also began to understand where this was going, "so then NevadaTelecom appears to be the intended target."

"That bomb explosion looked way too big to be targeted at just one person," Greg said worriedly.

"That's exactly what I'm thinking," Catherine called out to them, "Judy, I want you to call NevadaTelecom and tell them to evacuate the building as quickly as possible and tell them to stand well back, also I want a copy of surveillance tapes from the past hour of anyone who's entered or left the car park." Judy nodded and rushed off to make the call, "Sara, Nick, Greg and I will move out to NevadaTelecom, ready to process in case the worst happens. Ray, I don't want you fainting out there, I want you and Mandy to find the blueprints to the building, and find out where Marie Freybould's parking space is, and I think her car may have been chosen for a reason."

"Okay boss," Ray and Mandy said in unison, going off to research the blueprints.

"Archie! The lab got a call directly from the bomber himself, I want you to analyse the call, I thought I heard someone start an engine on the other side, see if you can identify the car from the noise." Archie nodded and followed Ray and Mandy out of the lab. "Hodges and Selma, Brass sent over a list of disgruntled employees that may want something against the company, I want you to do some research into them and see if you can find anything."

"And what can I do?" The sole remaining lab rat, Bobby Dawson asked, looking slightly dejected at being left until last.

"I need you to contact the coroners, get them out at the scene, then grab a spare kit and latex gloves, you're on field rotation."

Catherine ran off to get ready to go out into the field, leaving Bobby standing flabbergasted on the spot for a moment. A sense of excitement hit him as he realised he that field rotation couldn't have come up at a better time.

* * *

><p><em>56:45 , 56:44 , 56:43 , 56:42 ...<em>

"Brass," the homicide captain answered his phone, currently unaware of the situation as he was driving back to PD.

"Jim, it's Catherine," he heard on the other end of the line, her voice expressing concern and anxiety.

"Oh hey Catherine," he responded, casually stopping at a red light, "I faxed that list of names over to the lab and I found..."

"Jim, we've got another bomb set to explode in just under an hour," Brass felt his heart somersault as he heard the news, "I need bomb squad, ambulances, fire brigade, units outside the NevadaTelecom building ASAP."

"Understood Catherine, I'm on my way now." He hung up the phone and turned on his sirens causing the car in front to pull over. Brass executed a skilful U-Turn and began heading back out towards the building he had just left. He pulled out the radio and began speaking into it, "Dispatch, we have a ten-seventy-nine, requesting bomb squad, ambulances, fire department and all stand-by units to three-eight-three-two Howard Hughes Parkway ASAP, I repeat, three-eight-three-two Howard Hughes Parkway."

Without even listening to Dispatch's response, Brass continued driving straight for his destination, fearing the worst. Along the way he also requested Vartann's presence as well as that of many units who'd been sent out to speak with the suspects which Michael Wan, the worker at NevadaTelecom, had given to him.

Brass pulled up outside the office around ten minutes later and was relieved to see that ambulances and many units had already arrived. Still no sign of the bomb squad however and Brass had lost track of the time as he had sped down Las Vegas' roads and boulevards to get there.

"Everyone away!" Brass called out, "I don't want a single civilian within three hundred foot of that building!" He shouted to some of his units as they frantically set up the crime tape around the site.

People had begun pouring out of the building in a panic; Judy's call had reached one of the secretaries in the office who had in turn triggered the fore alarm. The expressions on peoples' faces as they stumbled across the front lawn were a mixture of both fear and utter confusion. Brass caught sight of Bradley Kiefers who was storming across the lawn looking enraged at him.

"I want to know what's going on here," he snapped at Brass.

"Mr Kiefers I need you get behind the tape," Brass replied calmly.

"I am not moving until you tell me what's happening."

"I say again, get behind the tape," said Brass, with anger apparent in his voice.

"And I say again, I'm not mo..."

"I suggest that if you don't want to be going home tonight in a matchbook, that you get behind the yellow tape," Brass yelled at Kiefers, who conceded defeat and moved out of the way. "God damn it, where are the bomb squad?"

* * *

><p><em>45:22 , 45:21 , 45:20 , 45:19 ...<em>

Sara fired up the Denali as Catherine and Bobby scampered into available seats, piling their kits in the back seat. In the event that the bomb was to explode at least they would already be at the scene and could begin to collect and document as quickly as possible.

"Urrm Catherine," Bobby asked hesitantly, as Sara reversed sharply out of the parking space, jerking the passengers sideways, "are you sure I'm qualified to be out here on a case like this?"

Catherine umm-ed and ah-ed for a bit before confidently saying, "No," adding, "but you gotta start somewhere."

"Catherine, did they say it was at Howard Hughes Parkway?" Sara asked from the driver's seat, not entirely sure where to go.

"Yep, just follow Greg." She indicated to the Denali in front of them which had just switched on its sirens and had begun to pick up speed as it pulled out of the car park. "Be thankful it's not Nicky driving, he'll be on the other side of the road and doing seventy, at least Greg keeps to the right."

Sara remembered hearing stories from Ray about the time he drove him to Venetti's to catch Jeckyll the previous year, and how Ray had joked that he was more certain he was going to die on that trip than he was in hospital following his stabbing. Catherine's phone began ringing as they zoomed along the roads of Las Vegas, doing at least twice the speed limit.

"Willows," Catherine answered her phone. The person on the other end was speaking loud enough for even Sara to hear over the noise of the sirens.

"Catherine!" Mayor Grimmle began yelling into the phone, "I've heard you've evacuated an office, taken a lab tech with you and deployed three quarters of the emergency services at once, all of which were without my authorisation! Tell me, what the _hell_ are you doing?"

Sara looked over at Catherine for a moment and saw she had a huge smirk emerging on her face. She answered coolly, "saving your ass."

* * *

><p><em>43:01 , 43:00 , 42:59 , 42:58 ...<em>

Mayor Grimmle slammed the phone down furiously and stormed down the corridors of the crime lab, stepping into the AV lab where Archie was processing the phone call which Catherine had received from the bomber. The mayor spun Archie's chair round to face him, sneering, "Care to tell me what the hell is going on?"

"Listen for yourself," Archie played the phone call through to the mayor and his expression changed to a look of horror.

"Why was I not the first to know?" He exclaimed to the lab tech, who was both unnerved and confused as to why the mayor was intent on asking him.

"Because with all due respect, sir, you were busy ranting about how poorly I was doing my job," Ecklie walked into the AV lab, saving Archie from probable death.

"You let this happen, Conrad," the mayor hissed, "and god damn it, if this stunt fails, don't even bother coming into work tomorrow."

He slammed the door behind him and strode away, fuming under his breath. Several lab techs had poked their heads round the doors, wondering what the commotion was all about. Ecklie ushered them away, telling them to go back to their jobs.

"What is the deal with that guy?" Archie asked.

"Oh, don't mind him, he's just like every other mayor we've had," Ecklie said casually.

"Yeah, but still."

"Have you managed to extract anything from the phone call?"

"Sorry, call came from a disposable cell, but I'm trying my best to identify the type of car he used."

"Okay, keep at it Johnson," Ecklie began walking out the room but stopped for a moment and turned back to the AV technician, "you're doing a fine job, by the way. Keep it up."

* * *

><p><em>36:12 , 36:11 , 36:10 , 36:09 ...<em>

Catherine's phone began ringing again. They had gotten in contact with Brass and he had told them that the bomb squadron was still at least ten minutes away, due to the fact they were relatively low-staffed and the fact they were called out earlier in the day as well.

"Willows," she picked up the phone.

"Catherine, it's Ray," Catherine noted that even if he hadn't said who he was she could easily identify him from his deep voice, "Mandy and I looked at the history of the Nevada Telecom building. It has a unique feature where the main office is situated above the car park for aesthetic purposes."

"Well that's debateable," Catherine muttered.

Ray continued talking, "Hold on, I've got more. Ten years ago, the building was deemed unsafe due to improper construction design with the pillars and the company was ordered to reconstruct the pillars."

"Let me guess," Catherine said, "they paid off a huge sum of money to the city to drop the inquiry."

"You're half there; they only replaced the pillars on the ground floor. There's no record of them touching those on the upper floors of the car park."

"Hold on, how many floors does this place have?"

"Three parking levels, five levels of office space. If our bomb's as big as the one which went off earlier, I think we're looking at some serious damage, if one support column fails, the added stress on the others surrounding it could cause it to fail too."

"Do you reckon one of our disgruntled employees knew about this design flaw?"

"I'm almost certain of it, but you can narrow your search down to cars on the second and third floors and I reckon he'd have parked as close to one of the pillars as possible."

"Thanks Ray, I'll pass the message along."

"Is there anything more I can do to help?"

"You and Mandy can help Hodges and Selma go through the backgrounds of our suspects, but if you're feeling faint you go and take a break do you understand?"

"Yes boss." Catherine hung up the phone and contacted Brass on the radio straight away with the information which Ray had given them.

"How much crap have we landed in?" Sara casually asked.

"I'm up to my shoulders in it," Catherine responded.

* * *

><p><em>34:36 , 34:35 , 34:34 , 34:33 ...<em>

Greg's heart was pounding with both excitement and dread as they sped along the strip, flashing lights and sirens sounding out to all the cars which had braved the congestion along the strip.

"Hold tight," he told to Nick who was seated in the passenger seat, "I'm turning British for a moment."

In that instant he swerved onto the wrong side of the road where traffic was considerably lighter. The scene up by Flamingo had been cleared but the southbound direction was still closed. "Sara is gonna be so pissed off at you," Nick chortled as he looked in the interior mirror seeing that Sara who was following close behind was grumbling and panicking at the prospect of driving on the wrong side of the road.

Once they had turned back onto the right hand side of the road Greg began to relax a bit more, relieved that they were closing in on their destination although concern hit him as he hadn't anticipated what he might see.

"So when're you gonna tell us about your trip to LA," Nick said, breaking the tense silence between them.

"I don't think now's the best time," Greg replied calmly, without taking his eyes off the road.

"C'mon man, ever since we got back from the scene you've been far more reserved, it's as if you're hiding something."

Greg snorted, "I'm not hiding anything, and I've accepted everything which has happened, I'm just getting settled back into the job."

"How about we talk this over a few beers? It's Thursday today, and you know who works on Thursday."

Greg rolled his eyes as Nick incessantly tried to bring up the blonde barmaid with the enormous breasts who Greg had spent the entire night goggling at two weeks ago. He was thankful that Nick hadn't told everyone that Greg had unsuccessfully tried to get the girl's number only to be politely turned down.

"Fine, but you buy the drinks."

It became obvious they had arrived at their destination; hundreds of workers were stood opposite a tall office building looking confused and shocked. It looked like no apparent damage had been done yet but there were still plenty of police units around telling people to back away from the building. They were accompanied by three ambulances and a fire engine so far, he also saw David and Doc Robbins arriving alongside them in the coroner's van. Greg pulled up and he and Nick hopped out the Denali and grabbed their kits. Another Denali had pulled up alongside and the three occupants also quickly exited their vehicle and walked over to where Nick and Greg were, still behind the crime tape.

"So far, so good," Nick said cheerfully, observing the scene.

"Yes, but the fireworks aren't due to start for another half hour," Sara reminded him as the bomb squad finally arrived at the scene pulling up right in front of the building as men and women began hopping out of their vehicles.

* * *

><p><em>30:16 , 30:15 , 30:14 , 30:13 ...<em>

"Captain," A tough-faced woman approached Brass, "Nora Morrison, I'm the person in charge of my unit; I need to know what my guys are dealing with."

"Oh yeah, hold on a mo," Brass was caught off guard for an instant, he fumbled around for his notebook and found the details which he had noted from Catherine when she had called after Ray had told her about the poor foundations. "Pipe bomb, set on a timer..."

"What type of timer?" She asked quickly, tying her hair back into a bun.

"Digital, I think, if it makes a difference, it should be in the hood of the car and they reckon it'll be on the second or third floor, close to one of the concrete pillars."

"Did you get a make and model of car? Plates?"

"Not yet, but we'll update you as soon as we find it."

"Okay, and I presume it's the same type of bomb used earlier, dynamite with silica?"

"Almost certainly."

"Thanks captain, oh and one more thing, how long do we have left?"

"Under half an hour. Be careful up there."

"Thanks for your concern captain, but we regularly play with fire, it's just another day in the office."

"Let's hope it's not your last," he muttered to himself sadly as Nora went back to her trucks to put on her blast suit and watched as many of her co-workers, armed with a scent dog, ventured into the car park, with the possibility of never coming out.

* * *

><p><em>22:55 , 22:54 , 22:53 , 22:52 ...<em>

"I think I got someone!" Selma cried out causing Ray and Mandy to pause what they're doing and go over to what Selma was looking at. She had brought up a file on the monitor and began reading, "Larry Durman, worked at NevadaTelecom for eight years, fired three months ago for being arrested for dynamite possession. Charges were dropped."

"Looks like the charges were dropped as there was no evidence to convict him," Ray continued reading, "I remember this guy! I think that particular case was handled by days, I'll go and talk to Ecklie about it."

"Oh and there's more!" Mandy said excitedly, "his neighbour happens to be, Marie Freybould, victim number one. Easy target to go for and I reckon he could have easily planted the bomb during the night."

"We got the bastard!" Selma exclaimed. "Although surely his epiphelials would have found a match in CODIS?"

"It says he refused a sample of DNA and the charges were dropped before they could get one," Mandy pointed out, "typical days."

"We should look up his vehicle information and financial records, maybe we'll give them all some help finding that car which contains the bomb!"

Hodges turned around in his seat, "well I've already found our bomber's plates. Nevada, Zero, Six, Six, King, Robert, Paul. He drives a red Ford Fiesta."

"I'm on it," Selma quickly got her phone out, realised she hadn't yet inputted Catherine's number and called out to the rest of them, "anyone got Catherine's number?"

Hodges sighed, taking out his phone saying sarcastically, "Well, if there's no other person."

* * *

><p><em>21:09 , 21:08 , 21:07 , 21:06 ...<em>

Catherine had begun pacing up and down anxiously awaiting news from the lab regarding the bombing and so far nothing had come through, she looked at her watch. Just over twenty minutes until detonation. When the phone did ring a couple of seconds later, her mind had wandered away.

"Catherine, are you gonna answer that?" Bobby asked.

Catherine's eyes suddenly widened with realisation and she picked up the phone. "Willows."

"Catherine, it's Hodges, we reckon we've got an identity on our bomber and his car."

"Just give me the car, David!" Catherine stuttered.

"It's a red Ford Fiesta; plates are Nevada, Zero, Six, Six, King, Robert, Paul." Catherine quickly jotted down the registration plate, "our guy is called Larry Durman, once suspected for..."

"Thanks Hodges that's great!" Catherine quickly said and hung up the phone and immediately got on the radio, without bothering to use standard procedure she picked up the radio and said, "the car you're looking for is a red Ford Fiesta, plates are Nevada, Zero, Six, Six, King, Robert, Paul. Nevada, Zero, Six, Six, King, Robert, Paul."

* * *

><p><em>17:52 , 17:51 , 17:50 , 17:49 ...<em>

Up on the second floor of the car park, Nora Morrison heard the radio broadcast and sent her unit out to find the red Ford Fiesta with the correct number plates. She noted that there were about two dozen pillars supporting the floors above, and many of them did indeed look damaged and improperly maintained. She became worried as it looked like the columns would not be able to withstand the explosion. She had seen the surveillance of the bombing that morning and the fact that they were more enclosed would only magnify the force of the explosion.

She looked left and right but couldn't see any sign of a Ford Fiesta, let alone one which matched the plates. "Morrison, there's no Ford Fiesta on this floor," she heard her second in-command Mickey broadcast from the third floor. Even the scent dogs hadn't picked up anything yet. Her units around her shared the same looks of confusion, dread and fear, thinking that maybe, they were looking for the wrong car or worse, they were looking in the wrong place.

* * *

><p><em>16:31 , 16:30 , 16:29 , 16:28 ...<em>

There was growing concern amongst the CSIs, the police units and the spectators as no news of locating the bomb had come through yet. _What if there was no bomb,_ Catherine thought to herself. She rather liked the prospect was it not for the fact she would most certainly be suspended and demoted at the very least.

"I got sight of him," a voice was heard on the radio, "I see the guy you're looking for."

She saw Brass pick up the radio and talk through it, "where are you officer?"

"Desert Inn Road, I just saw him pull out of Valley View Boulevard, red Ford Fiesta, Nevada, Zero, Six, Six, King, Robert, Paul. Shall I pull him over?"

"No, just keep a close watch on him."

Then, the realisation struck, this wasn't who they were looking for. Their one big lead, their primary suspect, driving away into the distance...

_14:44 , 14:43 , 14:42, 14:41 ..._

* * *

><p><strong>AN: Oh look, another cliffhanger, I'm such a meanie!**

**A 10-79 is standard police code for a bomb threat. Oh and whilst my story may be slightly flawed by the fact the dogs should quite easily pick up the scent in the car park, I've gone for the theory that the dogs are bored and fatigued having already been sent out earlier that day, thus reducing their effectiveness. ;) It's also great for dramatic purposes!**

**The fourth and final part of the story will be up tomorrow! Feel free to review and let me know what you think! :)**


	4. Part 4 of 4

_13:11 , 13:10 , 13:09 , 13:08 ..._

"_I'm live from Howard Hughes Parkway where there are reports of a possible second bombing taking place. It's been reported that an anonymous caller called the crime lab warning them about a second bomb. The crime lab accompanied by LVPD was able to successfully evacuate the suspected target whilst bomb disposal are..."_

Archie switched off the TV and arrived in the lab beaming, "I've identified the car; it's a GMC Yukon XL! Someone get me on the phone to Catherine!"

"Wait, I have more!" Mandy called out, "I had a look at our suspect, Larry Durman's credit card records, he rented out a GMC Yukon XL from McCarron earlier today. It's white with plates Nevada, Four, Three, Eight, Adam, Queen, Lincoln."

"I'll call her!" Hodges exclaimed, pulling out his cell for the second time in five minutes. "Come on Cath, pick up..."

* * *

><p><em>12:38 , 12:37 , 12:36 , 12:35 ...<em>

Catherine jumped as her phone began chirping again, she fumbled around with it before answering, "tell me you got something new Hodges," she asked desperately bringing out her notepad.

"Yeah, we got the wrong car, the guy used a rental," Hodges' voice sounded out of the phone, "the bomb's in a white GMC Yukon XL. Plates are Nevada, Four, Three, Eight, Adam, Queen, Lincoln."

Catherine quickly snapped her phone shut and pulled out her radio again, "The bomb's in a white GMC Yukon XL, great big SUV! We were wrong the first time; plates are Nevada, Four, Three, Eight, Adam, Queen, Lincoln. That's Nevada, Four, Three, Eight, Adam, Queen, Lincoln."

Catherine put the radio down, begging to herself quietly that they had got it right this time_. Please, let it be in this car_, she thought to herself, knowing that if she was wrong this time, twenty people will be dead and afterwards, she was most certainly going to make twenty-one.

* * *

><p><em>12:01 , 12:00 , 11:59 , 11:58 ...<em>

_Nevada, Four, Eight, Three, Adam, Queen, Lincoln. Nevada, Four, Eight, Three, Adam, Queen, Lincoln. Nevada, Four, Eight, Three, A, Q, L_. The letters and numbers swirled around Nora's head as she looked for the new bomb, and like before, she couldn't see it anywhere. There wasn't even an SUV parked near the pillars and the only two on this floor were black.

Her trance was broken by the sounds of dogs barking and Mickey's voice sounded down the radio, "Nora, we got it, third floor; you'll see us, hurry!" A huge wave of relief spread over Nora upon the bomb's discovery. Disarming a simple pipe bomb was relatively simple, although ultimately care and precision was required and they still had just over ten minutes to ensure it was disposed effectively. She and her other units quickly reached the third level to see that Mickey and his men had already placed the explosive component inside a large metal container.

"Sorry we started without you," Mickey said looking relieved, "it was a pretty big ass bomb, we're gonna go and detonate it out in the desert if you want to join us."

"Delightful," she replied happily, "can we send CSI in now?"

"We better wait until we clear the car park, we've gone round again just to check there aren't any more but this is as big as they get."

"Okay, I'll pass on the good news."

"Code Four, bomb is disarmed and ready for transportation for a controlled detonation," Nora's voice sounded along their radios. Catherine and the rest of the team breathed a huge sigh of relief at the news, "send CSI in once my guys have left."

"Okay, understood," came Brass' response.

Catherine sat down on the grass and looked back at the day's events. She stifled a yawn and it was only then she realised that she had been awake for over nineteen hours. The day had started off relatively easy, Nick, Sara and Greg had been assigned a slam-dunk B&E and the rest of the team had a quiet night in. Most of the morning had been spent processing the initial bomb scene and Catherine realised she'd been burnt by the sun, despite it being significantly cooler than in previous weeks. She then thought back to her argument with the mayor, and the suspicious call warning her of the bomb. It was hard to believe that that had occurred less than half an hour ago.

She noticed that the bomb squad were now leaving the car park and their vans were driving off, sirens sounding and lights flashing. Catherine ushered her team to start processing the car straight away. "We may know who are bomber is, but we still need the evidence to convict him," she reminded her team.

"Urrm... what would you like me to do, Catherine?" Bobby asked, following Catherine whilst handling both hers and his kit.

"Well seeing as you aren't qualified for collection, you can be photographer, make sure you get both close-ups and some long-distance shots though. Make sure to check that you have your date and time stamp on as well."

"Sure thing," he replied and headed off following Sara and Greg to the area where the car was. Catherine hung back for a bit, still exhausted and taken aback by what had happened.

"You did good, Catherine," a familiar and friendly voice spoke to her. "You saved a good five hundred peoples' lives today."

"Thanks Nick," was all she could respond. The statistics and the facts hadn't truly sunk in yet; she knew there would be a time to reflect over what had happened after shift had ended. "It wasn't all me though."

"Yeah but we wouldn't be able to if it wasn't for your leadership," Nick reminded her, "at the crime scene, in the layout room, here right now, a lot of these people wouldn't be here now were it not for..."

"I'm sure you'd have done the same if you were in my shoes."

"Don't be so modest Catherine. You know, if ever you doubt yourself, or your leadership in the future again, I guarantee you'll look back at today and you'll realise just how good you are."

Catherine didn't have anything to say to this, because deep down she knew he was right and she certainly felt better, having beginning to doubt her leadership capabilities.

"Captain, our suspects peeling off," the radio suddenly sprung to life and Catherine remembered that whilst disabling the bomb was their priority, they still had to catch the suspect, "requesting back up towards Spring Mountain and West Decatur."

"Affirmative, back-up will be with you in approximately five minutes, make sure you update your location." Brass responded on the radio, he rushed over to Catherine, panting, "Catherine, I'm heading out to get our guy, I need one of your CSIs in case things don't go so well."

"Sure, take Nick," she quickly replied, looking at Nick who nodded his head in agreement. "Take care!"

"Don't worry about us," Nick called as he jumped into the passenger seat of Brass' car, "you just focus on processing the SUV."

Before she had a chance to reply, Brass had switched on his sirens, and peeled out of the area, she heard the distant revs of the car diminishing and she began to dread what Larry Durman had in store for them.

* * *

><p>"Control, suspect is heading down Industrial, where on earth is back-up?"<p>

"Back-up is right behind you."

The red Ford Fiesta recklessly ambled along the busy road, swerving to avoid oncoming traffic and pedestrians, two police cars were hot on its tail and as the driver approached Sahara he saw a further two cars heading straight for his direction. In an attempt to throw his pursuers off course, the driver took a sharp right turn onto Sahara, heading eastwards towards Boulder Highway. The cat and mouse chase had begun around fifteen minutes ago; shortly before his bomb was due to explode however to his frustration, there were no reports of such an explosion occurring, he knew it would be unwise to contact the authorities but on the bright side, he gets his half hour of infamy. The driver took another sharp right onto Maryland where he found he was being pursued by a new vehicle, that belonging to Captain James Brass.

Brass held the steering wheel tightly as he manoeuvred around heavy traffic hoping to eventually corner the renegade vehicle. He cursed to himself every time Larry Durman veered away or suddenly made a dangerous turning. His passenger, Nick said nothing of this, immersed in the chase whilst taking in the sounds of screams, sirens and horns.

The pursuit headed back towards the ghettos of Las Vegas, the driver of the Ford Fiesta was becoming rasher, and he'd now bumped against two vehicles catapulting them onto the sidewalk however the pace of the chase didn't let up. Angry onlookers fumed at them, although there was no time to hear or take in what they were saying. Incidents involving the police were common in this part of town although the scale of this chase could only be trumped by the infamous shoot-out which had occurred almost six years previously, there were now seven cars in pursuit of the vehicle and they were sure that soon he was going to run out of steam.

Determined not to give up, the Fiesta suddenly pulled into a narrow alleyway, stopping at the intersection with another alleyway and the driver hopped out of the car.

"Suspect has proceeded on foot, weapon status unknown, proceed with caution," Brass radioed, pulling up at the entrance to the alley. Other officers followed suit, the suspect had finally been cornered. Brass hopped out of his car, Nick closely following suit and they both approached Larry Durman, guns raised and pointed at the man.

"Larry Durman, LVPD, please hold your hands where I can see them!" Brass called out to Durman, who defiantly reached into his car's glove compartment retracting a pistol, "Drop the weapon! Drop the weapon! Don't make this worse for yourself!"

"Why should I care?" Larry Durman shouted back to him as more police officers began arriving and aiming their guns at the man, "I'm already heading for the needle, what's taking another life going to do for me?"

"Larry, you don't have to do this, we can arrange a deal," Brass called back.

"Oh goody! A choice between death and rotting away in a prison cell the rest of my life? You're gonna have to do better than that!" He shouted back, cocking his gun.

"Nobody else has to die today, you know if you fire one shot, then we empty our casings. Don't do this to yourself!"

"What's in it for me, huh? What do I get doing this?"

"You get to tell your story," Nick replied, "and trust me, I'm sure it is one worth listening to! So, just lower your weapon, don't be remembered for the guy who got shot down by a dozen policemen, be remembered for the guy who made the right decision."

Durman hesitated at Nick's words, he began thinking, he put his hands on his head with frustration and with a loud growl he threw his weapon aside. Brass immediately took advantage of the situation and ran up to the man telling him, "hands on the hood, please," the man obliged and Brass took the man's arms from behind his back and cuffed him, Brass quietly whispered to him his rights to remain silent and pulled him away towards his car.

"I've got one thing you might want to listen to," Durman muttered to Brass quietly as he was led away, "you might want to get your men to stand back." He then raised his voice and shouted out behind him, "you hear that? Get back, get back I tell you!"

In a surprising move, Durman managed to wriggle away from Brass' clutch and scarpered off, although not in the direction of the street, but back into the middle of the alley. Brass quickly reached for his holster and brandished his weapon, aiming it at the estranged suspect running away from him, still handcuffed. Nick shouted out to the suspect and prepared to squeeze the trigger of his own gun when suddenly the world around him shook as the Ford Fiesta was engulfed in a tremendous fireball. The force of the blast knocked the two of them off their feet and they were thrown on the floor. Debris went flying and the surprised yelps of police officers echoed along the alleys although they were quickly drowned out by the blast and the subsequent roaring inferno which swarmed the car.

Brass sat up, dazed slightly by the blast as his distorted world began to sift into focus. He noticed that he had suffered some minor scratching and bruising although his ears were still ringing from the initial explosion. He turned to his colleague and saw that he too had suffered minor injuries and he hoped that everyone in the vicinity had not been inflicted heavily. A loud groaning became apparent as Brass saw the body of Larry Durman, lying face down on the ground, his skin charred by the explosion and burns covering a large proportion of exposed skin.

Brass calmly reached for his radio, speaking into it, "Dispatch, I need ambulances and fire crew to my location ASAP, and bring me a coroner too, just in case."

* * *

><p>"<em>... the rescue and recovery efforts were strongly praised by the mayor regarding Thursday's events, as evidenced in Mayor Logan Grimmle's statement earlier today regarding the bombing."<em>

"_Thursday, June the thirtieth, twenty eleven will be remembered as a dark day for many people involved in the bombings at Flamingo and Downtown as well as the scare at NevadaTelecom. However, it will also be remembered as a day in which we could really count on our emergency services, the people of Las Vegas were in trouble and they were saved by people who put their lives on the line every day in order to help those more vulnerable. I therefore extend my thanks, on behalf of the people of Las Vegas, to our ambulances and fire crew, to the Las Vegas Police Department, to the Las Vegas Bomb Disposal Unit and also to the Las Vegas Crime Lab. Without their admirable efforts, I fear that..."_

Sara switched off the TV and went to sit down by Nick in a waiting room in Desert Palms Hospital. Larry Durman had been in surgery several hours, and it was still in the interest of both CSI and the people of Las Vegas to finally get some closure into the case involving the bombing of Marie Freybould's Ford Focus, which meant that the grave shift had to stay at the hospital to talk to him when he woke up.

"Hey," Brass walked into the room and quietly took a seat next to them, "how's he doing?"

"He got out of surgery an hour and a half ago," Sara said, "we're just waiting for a nurse to send us in." She noted the band aids and bruises plastered over Brass and felt inclined to ask whether he was doing alright.

"I'll live," he smiled to her.

At that moment a nurse popped her head around the door, "Mr Durman is ready, Captain."

"Right," Brass said, hoisting himself out of the seat, "let's go and speak to him."

"We request he only has two visitors at a time," the nurse spoke.

"Nick, you've been here a few hours," Sara began, "you need some res..."

"No, don't worry, you can go home," Nick cut in.

"She's right Nick, go home and sleep it off," Brass told him to which Nick agreed and got out of his seat to leave the hospital. The two of them walked down the corridor and the nurse warned them that he'd suffered extensive third degree burns to the lower half of his body.

* * *

><p>Ray sat quietly in the seat whilst the doctor and the attending nurse began whispering to each other. He felt uneasy at what was being discussed and feared the worst. The doctor eventually walked over to Ray and with a solemn expression handed him a chart.<p>

"Is it good news?" Ray asked, trying to hide the fear in his voice.

"I'm afraid not," the doctor replied somberly.

Ray took a deep breath and opened the chart, hoping that the results proved to be better than he had anticipated. Upon reading it, he wasn't surprised but his stomach still plunged with despair. He looked up at the doctor and asked her quietly, "what are my options?"

* * *

><p>Brass was taken aback at the condition of the man. Every inch of his arms and legs was completely charred, only his face appeared to have survived any burning. He was connected up to a heart monitor which beeped ominously and it took a few moments for Brass to realise that his right leg had been amputated. Durman sensed their presence in the room and he turned his head to face them.<p>

"Can he talk?" Sara asked the nurse, she shook her head, informing them that he hadn't shown any signs of communication other than nodding or shaking his head.

"Okay Mr Durman," Brass began awkwardly, even he had become uncomfortable at interviewing a suspect who was left in this state. "We have your epithelials on a blasting cap used to make the bomb which killed Marie Freybould and Patrick McConnors. We also have your prints on the steering wheel of the car which you attempted to blow up to take down the NevadaTelecom building and your credit records also show you rented the car that very morning."

Durman simply nodded, accepting his fate, it was at that moment Brass realised that what he was doing was pointless. They knew they got the guy, the guy knew he'd been caught and it seemed almost cruel that he had been sent here by the mayor in order to boost his publicity and popularity with the people of Vegas. Brass sighed and looked at the man again. He didn't deserve this as well; he was already serving his death sentence.

"Listen, "Brass continued, "this isn't easy for me to ask, but I need to know why you were intent on your actions on Thursday. We understand you were arrested in February for suspicion of illegal possession of dynamite, but the charges were dropped." Durman nodded.

"Then," Sara carried the story on, "you ended up being fired from your job and we found out that your wife divorced you shortly afterwards, you end up in debt and you lose almost everything. Your life was turned on its head just by one accusation." Durman nodded again.

"You'd think your work would forgive you, it was never proven you possessed the dynamite so they didn't have to fire you. You blamed the company for ruining your life and what better way to get your revenge by blowing up the building with some dynamite, a rather fitting method as you was wrongly accused of possessing it." Durman made no gestures this time.

"But your first bomb failed," Sara carried on, "it was rather convenient living next to the assistant director of your target wasn't it? You could just plant the bomb during the night, but you didn't anticipate her being stuck in traffic so you realised you had to do job yourself. You drove to the office, took a bus to McCarron and bought a rental car which you placed your second bomb in, then you drove out using your old car to get away." Durman nodded, acknowledging her assumptions and findings.

"In any normal circumstances," Brass began talking, "your crimes would warrant you the death penalty, however given the fact of your condition..." Brass faltered off, unsure of the consequences.

"I'll just remain imprisoned in a chrysalis," a faint voice emerged from Durham's mouth. "I deserve no better." Brass and Sara stood there motionless, uneasy at the situation they were in, Durman mustered up enough strength to speak again, "but you've got one thing wrong Captain. You were right the first time."

He looked at them both for an instant, before drifting off into unconsciousness. Brass breathed out deeply, "thank you for your time, Mr Durman," he muttered and the two of them left the man in his vegetative state.

"Why did we have to do that?" Sara asked, looking furious with herself as the two of them walked towards the hospital exit. "What gain has been made from getting a confession from pretty much a dead man?"

Brass shook his head and sighed, "because to some people, a dead man simply isn't closure."

* * *

><p><strong>AN: And that is the end of the story. The next story in the series, **_**Deep Freeze **_**(1x04) will be published on Friday July 8, so be sure to have a look at that if you enjoyed this and the previous stories. Alternatively, if you started with this one, you can to go back and read the other two.**

**Thank you all for reading and feel free to review and let me know what you thought! :)**


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